


Sharyl Drabbles

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: For the Good of the Group AU, Gen, M/M, The Shadow AU, domestic AU, lycan unit AU, sharyl, spaceAU!, various prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Sharyl mini fics, drabbles and answers to prompts that were not enough for their own fic. Includes some one shots from AUs I've made, as well as domestic AUs and much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shyness

Daryl has never had anything even slightly resembling a relationship before. If that’s what this thing between he and Shane was. Who was he kidding? It’s what it is. Even if they call it a ‘something’ instead, he knows it’s a relationship. It’s not just fooling around, it’s not about getting their end away and then ignoring each other, it’s more and the thing is; he likes it. Daryl likes getting to share the nights with Shane, curled in his arms and buried beneath his chin. It’s perfect.

But the thing he, he’s not used to this shit. He can do the making out part and the fucking is damned good, but it’s private and he’s a kinda private guy. Thing is, Shane is not so private. Shane is loud, he’s funny, he’s the centre of attention and a chatterbox, and he doesn’t hide himself from the world. So sometimes Shane will duck in close and press a kiss on his cheek, or cup at the back of his neck and try to kiss him in front of people, or he’ll shove a bunch of hastily picked daisies under Daryl’s nose and call him beautiful.

It makes him blush and Daryl hates blushing. He hates being made a fool of, especially in front of people. And the group always see because Shane Walsh doesn’t do subtle. So Glenn is always smirking somewhere nearby, hugging Maggie close and grinning with her like they’re in on some stupid joke he’s not aware of. Daryl ends up huffing to himself, shoving Shane’s stupid smiling face away and walking off to try and cool himself off from flushing so bad.

Of course Shane is there, following him with a small laugh and yanking on the back of his collar to get him to stop. “Hey Daryl, don’t be like that.” Shane brings him around so they’re facing each other, hands on Daryl’s shoulders, one moving to cup the back of his neck to hold him steady. It’s ridiculous how easily that calms him down and Daryl finds himself glancing up to Shane, waiting for an apology.

“You know I ain’t so good with this shit.” Daryl ends up muttering, arms folded, leaning back a little. But Shane is there, holding him steady, keeping him grounded through his frustration. It helps.

Shane is the one person who can get him thinking straight again and when he smiles that damned smile to him, leaning close enough to press their foreheads together, it’s like Daryl remembers how to breathe. “I know. I know it ain’t easy, but you’re getting better.” Shane reminds him and Daryl knows he’s not half as skittish as he used to be about this whole public display thing. “Thing is, I don’t want to embarrass you man, it’s just…” Shane pauses, a thumb strokes over the back of his neck and Daryl knows the other man means what he’s saying. “We don’t know how much time we got left nowadays Daryl. I don’t want to waste a second of it not enjoying my time with you.”

Well he was not expecting that. Daryl can feel the heat that had been receding from his face start up again. Shane always manages to get him flustered, but that kind of thing being admitted, it means a lot to him. So he doesn’t pull away, instead he presses a swift kiss to Shane’s lips, more than enough to say what needs to be said.

“Made you blush again.”

“Shut up Walsh.”


	2. For the Good of the Group AU

It’s been a week in the CDC. A week of learning to cope with filtered air, white walls everywhere, the lack of nature and the outside world around them. It’s a little claustrophobic, but they’re learning to deal with it all. Shane isn’t surprised to see that the kids are the quickest to adapt, Carl and Sophia claiming the rec room as their own and though they’re back into having their lessons every day, the kids are happy. It’s a weight off of everyone’s mind to be so safe all the time. Nobody has to sleep with one eye open anymore, they have power, food, safety and a future.

It’s easier down here for everybody, but despite the population of the CDC being down to thirteen people and a super computer, there is one member of their group that he hasn’t seen lately. Daryl’s been absent, only cropping up to grab a plateful of food before leaving as soon as he’s eaten. Heck sometimes he even takes the plate and eats elsewhere. It’s annoying and kind of pisses Shane off that the redneck doesn’t have the decency to be courteous to their saviour or at least want to make an effort with the people he’s now living with.

Shane hasn’t seen him in a long time, he’s kind of like a stray cat they’ve taken in, one that skulks about, barely ever seen unless you’ve got something it wants. Thing is, it’s not fair, it’s like a problem lurking beneath the surface and Shane isn’t going to wait around for it to all come to a head and possibly cause an issue with them staying here. It’s for the safety of everyone here that he tries to find Daryl himself, heading down barely used hallways and trying to track down the hunter.

He does it at night, when everybody else is asleep and he’s got the place pretty much to himself. Because he’s shared a camp with Daryl, he knows that if Daryl were around, he’d come out at night when he’s alone. So it’s not to much of a shock when he heads into the main room and finds Daryl lurking about the locked down doors, the ones leading to the main elevator up to the surface. He’s got his bow in hand, running his fingers along the joins of the blast doors, and then to Shane’s shock, he even kicks at the damned thing like he’s trying to get through them.

“You heard the man Dixon, things can withstand a rocket. You think you’re going to even make a dent?” He calls out, hopping up the stairs to meet the other man, unarmed and wearing nothing more than his sleep pants, but Daryl still looks wary as he walks closer. Shouldn’t feel so good to have him on edge already. “Where you been at man? Not seen you round lately.”

Daryl doesn’t answer, instead he grunts noncommittally and swings his bow onto his back, moving to shove past Shane and he would have probably stormed off if Shane hadn’t grabbed his wrist and stopped him. There’s a small scuffle, a mini tug of war with some shoving and huffing between them, but in the end they end up beside each other in the main room, Daryl glaring and Shane unable to stop smirking at him. There’s the tiniest hint of red on Daryl’s cheeks, a little blush and Shane can’t help but want to find out why he’s so flustered.

“Been busy.” Daryl grunts to him.

“Busy? Doing what? There’s nothing to do around here.” He points out, glancing about the huge empty white room, the huge computer screens blank and boring with nothing on them to even give a hint of life. “Place is-“

“Dead.”

And this time Shane looks at Daryl. Really looks at him and can see how much this is wearing on him. He looks cold, empty and lost, like the odd one out here. Daryl has an air of nature about him, he’s always got a layer of dirt on him, the man practically smells of being brought up outside in the wild, he’s no city slicker that’s for sure. Shane wouldn’t be surprised if Daryl had only ever gone to the city after the majority of humanity were wiped out. The man wasn’t comfortable around this kind of stuff, technology, white walls, sterile and overwhelming. No trees, no real fresh air, no life. It’s suffocating him and Shane can’t believe he hasn’t seen it before.

Running a hand over the back of his head, Shane understand why Daryl’s been avoiding them all, why he’s been out here at night and testing their way out. He misses the real world and he can’t be blamed for that. But it’s not safe, they need to get used to it all. “Could help you relax if you want?” He murmurs and Daryl freezes before him.

There’s a moment he remembers how it had felt to have Daryl bent over before him, squirming on his fingers, gasping and moaning for more before coming over his fingers. He remembers getting hard from it, wanting more from him, wanting to run his tongue over the back of Daryl’s neck to taste that salty tang of sweat as he made him howl all over again. Shane isn’t going to deny wanting him, the man is good to look at and feisty too, and heck looking at Daryl now he can see the flush starting on the back of his neck. He wouldn’t mind getting a piece of him again.

“L-like before in the… you don’t have to…I wasn’t…uh…”

Hearing Daryl stumbling over his words is adorable and Shane watches with a smile as he tries to deny wanting it at all, even if he notices the way Daryl’s eyes skate over his form for a moment in interest. Before the other man can get himself tied up into even more knots over it all, Shane takes pity on him and does what he originally intended to make the hunter feel a little better.

“Vi, pull up videos of nature walks on the big screens.”

Green surrounds them, screens from floor to ceiling show footage of trees, dense forest moving past the camera, the slight jilted movement of someone walking. Birdsong echoes around the room, they can hear the breeze in the trees and there’s the snap of twigs beneath footsteps on the leaves. For a moment, they’re outside, in the woodland of Georgia just walking and enjoying the feel of life again. Shane swears when he takes a deep breath he can smell the outside again. It’s an awe inspiring sight, but the best part of it all is when he looks to the side and gets to see Daryl’s smile.


	3. Lycan Unit AU

It itches, it’s tight and makes him want to bite at the too small buttons and get himself free. The collar is pinching at his neck, his scruff feels ruffled, there at little cuffs on his wrists that feel stupid and the worst thing is the damned tie. Shane had brought him a clip on sure, so it wasn’t choking as much as normal ones would, but it’s distracting and ridiculous. The tie flaps about, it swings when he shakes his head back and forth, but he can’t catch it on his mouth, no matter how hard it tries. So he tries again, swinging once more, getting the momentum up and trying to grab at it, feeling the fabric slip through his teeth and leaving him biting at nothing but air.

Growling to himself a little he is jolted from his little game as Shane’s hand comes to press against his lower back, stroking lightly and getting his attention. “Daryl, we’re in public remember?” Shane tells him with a smile, but it’s not a real smile, it’s the kind of fake smile he put on when he’s trying not to yell. Grumbling to himself Daryl slumps in his seat, patting the tie to lie down against his chest as he waits for their meal to arrive.

He doesn’t understand human meals very well. The restaurant is fancy, requires shirts, ties and black pants with the folds ironed in. Shane even made him where plain boring underwear beneath it all and shiny shoes that mean he can’t run fast enough if he needs to. It makes him feel uncomfortable, and so do the wait staff that hover around, asking questions about wine, putting out a heck of a lot of silverware for one person and giving him the stink eye when he shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes.

But he’s trying, for Shane. There had been talks of other police forces taking up a Lycan Unit and somehow they’d become the spokespeople for it. So there had been meetings, and talks, and phone calls and paperwork but for the most part he’s been allowed to skip out of it. But he’d been dragged in to this meeting, this dinner to talk about what other units needed to consider before making the changes for it, what they didn’t know about working with werewolves. Shane had told him he’s an integral part of it all and had to be here, so here he was, in a suit, in a tie and trying to understand why humans went through this whole dinner charade.

They’re joined by their own Sheriff, as well as a couple from other stations across the state and despite them all being Georgia born and bred, they’re enjoying this fancy pants restaurant and seem to know what to do. Meanwhile Daryl’s wondering why in Lady Luna’s name he’s got three types of fork. But he sits in the chair, he smiles when he has to and nods in answer when Shane prompts him to. It’s going well, he thinks. He hopes.

When food arrives Daryl has to admit it smells damned good, Shane had ordered for him and he’s pleased to see a huge bloody steak on his plate, all the sides and additions to the side and leaving it untainted. Leaning down he sniffs at it, enjoying the scent of death and the lack of burn on it, humans were foolish when they cooked their meat, it was far better like this. Ducking his head he goes to take a bite, feeling the tiny fangs that linger even in his human form pierce the flesh easily, but before he can begin tearing into the steak, Shane is nudging him with a hiss.

“Daryl no!”

Dropping the steak back to his plate he cocks his head to the side, wondering why Shane was stopping him from eating his dinner. There’s a look of horror on his human’s face, Daryl can see when he glances to their company at the table and when he notices their reactions to his way of eating, he remembers how picky humans can be about manners. Feeling ashamed he sits back, remembering that he was doing this for Shane as he snatches up the steak knife and fork. It feels awkward and wrong to cut the steak up, to ruin such a perfectly good meal by butchering it into bite sized pieces, but he tries. It still tastes good at least, the blood staining his tongue wonderfully and giving him the flavour of death and the thrill of a successful hunt behind it.

“Must’ve been a good hunt to bring down a cow.” Daryl points out with a shrug, wolfing down the meat eagerly and ignoring the other food on his plate. “One time me and my brother were bringing down a huge buck, got an antler to the ribs, almost pierced me, but then Merle ripped out it’s throat, it made the funniest noise as it choked on it’s own blood, kinda like a gurgle sort of sound.” He snorts out a laugh, remembering the way it had taken a while to finally stop twitching as they’d already begun ripping out its intestines.

There’s a hand placed on the small of his back, Shane leans in to his side again and Daryl looks up to find all the humans looking at him a little uneasily. Swallowing his mouthful he ducks his head, lets his hair fall in front of his eyes and hide him from their looks as he leans in to Shane. “Daryl…”

“I said too much didn’t I?”

“Yeah bud. Not appropriate dinner conversation.”

Whining a little in the back of his throat, he doesn’t feel hungry for anymore food. He was screwing this up big time and right now his mate looks pretty sick of having to apologise for his behaviour. Nudging at Shane’s face he rubs their cheeks together in apology, licking at the corner of his lips in a small kiss, smearing some of the blood from the steak to his lips accidentally. “I’m tryin’, honest.” He apologises, but this is too hard for him. Humans didn’t work the same way and with the moon almost full in the sky he’s jittery enough already.

Daryl can feel the moon pulse through his blood, it makes him itch under his skin in a way he can’t scratch and now being forced into this constricting shirt and tie and having to sit through this stupid dinner and everything. It makes him want to snarl a little. Already he can feel his fangs against his lip as he grits his teeth, trying to keep it under control, but it’s difficult and Shane’s hand strokes firmly over his lower back, giving him some extra strength.

“I know you are bud.” Shane nods, reaching up to rub at the hair behind his ears and his mate knows that it always calms Daryl down. Growling a little in pleasure, Daryl rests his chin on Shane’s shoulder, letting his leg jiggle beneath the table, losing himself in Shane’s scent to steady himself. “You know what, I think we’ve been polite enough, don’t you?”

Honestly he wants to agree, but he knows this is important and so he whines instead, keeping himself low, pressed against Shane and showing his submissiveness to his mate’s choice. The humans across from them are watching curiously, it makes Daryl growl a little protectively, reaching out to snare his fingers in Shane’s shirt and keep him safe. But they are no threat, not really, even if his instinct is flaring beneath the surface. Still it doesn’t hurt to rub his face at Shane’s neck to scent mark him a little deeper.

“You guys have everything you need for the moment right?” Shane asks them, there is a small conversation, a little laugh but it’s happy, casual and there doesn’t seem to be any malice behind it. There is a mention of them not staying for dessert and Daryl wants to tell them he could catch a squirrel for them easily enough. But he bites his lip and licks beneath Shane’s ear instead. “Because I don’t think this dinner is going to tell you anything more you need to know, you’ve got more than enough information to go on.”

There is more chuckling, more sipping of wine and the admittance that the three of them can carry on the meeting without them both. Daryl whines a little, more focussed on the potential of getting out of here than playing to the worries of the humans they’re with. Nipping gently at Shane’s ear, he wants his attention, and his mate reaches up to run his fingers through his hair to soothe him again. But then Shane is moving, standing up and shaking hands, leaving Daryl to follow suit, even if he doesn’t do hand shaking. Touch was something for pack, and these people were not pack. Still he ducks his head in a nod to be polite.

Then they’re leaving, walking towards the door and he’s eager to move, already grabbing the tie and tugging it off, fangs catching on the buttons of the wrist cuffs and biting them off, spitting them to the floor as they make their way outside. As soon as the moonbeams hit his skin he feels better, feels like he can breathe again and Shane is there, reaching out to undo the button beneath his chin and smile to him lightly.

“Go ahead and shift, I’m proud of you for lasting that long.” Shane tells him, fingers in his hair before his hands are held out, taking the shirt that Daryl is stripping off and folding it over his arm as Daryl begins shifting. He’s soon alive again, all paws, fur, fangs and wolf blood, proud and real on the streets of the human world. This is him, this is real and this is a better answer to all those questions than anything he could have said. “Was twice as long as I expected.”


	4. Domestic AU - panic attack

Shane is used to waking up in the middle of the night. He’s a cop so sometimes there are calls at 2am for him to get in and cover a shift, or to suit up and take on an extra few hours to back someone up on a tough ride. Usually he deals with it as well as he can, downing a strong coffee, tugging on his uniform and cursing every God he can for deciding to be a cop instead of something easier and more laid back, like a lion tamer. So when he’s woken up in the early hours of the morning, immediately he’s reaching out for the phone, shoving the handset to his ear and grunting for some kind of answer when he realises it had never been wringing.

The reason for his being awake strikes again, a small gasp from beside him, and when he reaches out he finds a rigid body beneath his palm. “Daryl?” His voice is gritty with sleep, but at the thought of there being something wrong with his partner, Shane is instantly awake. “Daryl’s what’s wrong?”

There is no reply, at least nothing verbal. Instead there is another gasp, and Daryl is sitting up beside him in the dark, heaving heavily, his breathing stuttered and like it’s caught in his chest. Immediately Shane is awake, scrabbling for the bedside lamp, flicking it on and trying to get his eyes to focus in the sudden light in the bedroom. It takes him a few seconds of blinking, but when he’s acclimatised he can see how awful Daryl looks. He’s breathing far too heavily, hunched in on himself, one hand clawing at his own throat and eyes wide and staring at nothing.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay man, Daryl it’s okay, what’s wrong?” Shane asks, reaching out to touch him, a hand on his back, one on his shoulder and he can feel how tense Daryl is. It’s like he’s made of stone, yet shaking, quivering and looking so damned broken. “Are you hurt? Daryl? Hey talk to me Daryl, are you okay?” Bringing the other man close he can feel his heartbeat racing, and as Shane wraps his arms around Daryl’s body, he knows that something is desperately wrong.

Daryl curls in to him, looking so small as he trembles, nothing like the sure and successful hunter Shane knows. “I c-can’t breathe…” His partner gasps, almost choking on the words and Shane places a steady hand on Daryl’s chest to try and help.

“Yeah you can. Yeah you can here, breathe with me baby. I’ll count okay? Come on breathe in, one, two, three. Hold it.” He keeps a hand on Daryl’s chest, holding him upright, keeping him steady and letting him have that pressure on his body to stop him from breathing out too fast. “And now out slowly, three, two, one.” They breathe together for a while, Shane just easing Daryl through the panic attack, trying to keep him steady now he knows it’s a panic attack and not something more dangerous.

It takes time, it takes patience, but eventually Daryl is breathing better, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’s still a little shaky, his fingers curling around Shane’s arm and holding him tight as Shane does the same for him. Sitting on the bed together Shane rocks Daryl lightly, the two of them swaying from side to side as he gets his partner to calm back down. Eventually it’s under control and when Daryl speaks it’s not as shaky or stuttered as before. “Sh-Shane I…” Speaking seems to get Daryl worked up again, and Shane hushes him briefly.

“Stop.” He keeps his voice low and calming, pressing a kiss to Daryl’s temple and keeping him close. “It’s alright baby I’m here okay? Just breathe for me, ain’t no problem we can’t fix.”

Daryl nods, but he buries himself closer, head nudging beneath Shane’s chin to stay close and safe. “Shane what if he f-finds me?”

He had a feeling this was the reason for Daryl’s unease the last few days, ever since the news had arrived. His partner has been tense, he’s been quieter than usual and Shane has had the common sense not to push it. Daryl would talk to him when he wanted to, if he needed to, but it seems now it was all coming out after the panic attack.

“He won’t okay? Daryl he can’t, he don’t know where you are or anything.” Shane hushes him, bringing the comforter around them both, keeping him close and giving all the comfort he can. “I got you alright? I know your dad getting out of prison has upset you, but ain’t nothing gonna happen alright? I ain’t gonna let it baby.” Pressing a kiss to Daryl’s temple he lets his partner stay in his arms, practically in his lap. “You know I got you, ain’t never gonna let nothin’ happen to you, I swear.”

There’s a mumble of acceptance from Daryl, his partner stays in his arms as Shane eases them to lie back down, leaving on the bedside lamp as they lie back down to sleep. He can’t fix all of Daryl’s problems, but he can try to help him through them as best he can. Because he means it, he’s never going to let anything happen to Daryl, not if he can help it. 


	5. The Shadow AU

Shane can understand that things are tough for Daryl to get used to in the prison. It’s a very different world to what the feral man is used to, and he knows that sometimes Daryl needs to get away from it all, but there is time to himself and then there is acting ridiculous. It’s sunny, bright and a wonderful day outside, all the kids are playing, others are helping out with chores and despite the walkers at the fences it’s actually a pretty nice day. Yet here Shane is inside with Rick, sitting in their cool cell and trying to coax Daryl out from his hiding spot.

“Daryl come on out of there.” Rick tries to coax him, placing a gentle hand on Daryl’s ankle, the other man’s leg being the only part of his body protruding from beneath their bed. Daryl had hauled himself beneath the thing an hour ago and though usually if left alone he would soon calm himself down, it didn’t seem to have worked this time. “Come on now, at least tell us what’s wrong?”

Sighing to himself, Shane tries to keep his cool, losing his temper and raising his voice only ever got Daryl flinching more, and they didn’t need him acting any more skittish than he already was. So instead he lowers himself down to floor level, resting on his front as he peers beneath the bed. There in the darkness is Daryl, curled up on his side around a bottle of water and a pack of snacks. He knows this is Daryl’s safe spot and so it’s no surprise that he’s got supplies for if he feels threatened, the knife isn’t a surprise at all.

“Bud, you gotta use your words for us alright?” Because right now Daryl is hidden in shadow, so reading his face is difficult and with him under the bed, they need some answers for why he’s hiding today. “Now come on, you tell me and Rick why you’re so worked up today.”

There’s a slight growl, Daryl huffs and Shane watches as he squirms in place, Rick’s hand on his ankle stroking lightly to keep him calm. As always it takes a while for Daryl to speak, and he’s quieter than most people, but he’s getting better, it’s real progress. “’s too loud out there.” Daryl mumbles.

“Too loud for you?” Rick soothes, his voice soft and gentle, cooing to him like he would when the baby was being fussy. It makes Shane roll his eyes a little because he didn’t believe that treating Daryl any different was going to help anybody. “Well you can’t stay under here the whole day Daryl. Why don’t you just come with us? We’re going to be working on the farm, that’s all, nothing too stressful.”

There is a small grunt from beneath the bed, Daryl chews at his thumb for a moment but then he’s moving, wriggling himself out close to Shane until he can hook his hands beneath the other man’s arms and help drag him out. “There we go, not so bad out here is it?” Shane asks and finds Daryl nudging at him, climbing closer to him and wrapping his arms about his neck in a loose hug. He’s used to this affection from Daryl, now they’ve gotten him to come out of his shell, Daryl is an affectionate son of a bitch.

Rick reaches out to run his fingers through Daryl’s hair, making hushing noises as he rewards him for coming out from under the bed. It’s not much but having Daryl in their group means a lot to them and they know it’s taken a lot of strength from Daryl to make it this far. But he’d deserved it and right now were the kind of moment that made all the hassle worth it. Rick hums lightly, a silly little tune of a nursery rhyme as he keeps Daryl calm, the three of them having a few moments to ease Daryl into it all.

Things had to go slow with Daryl, because the second they pushed, it got overwhelming for him. So they go slow, they move carefully and cautiously as they begin making their way out to the yard, letting Daryl linger behind them, using them as a shield from everybody else. He’s not quite sure of himself yet, but Shane doesn’t mind, not when they’ve already made such progress. Sure Daryl was a lot of work, but he was theirs and Shane wouldn’t have him any other way. 


	6. Just sometimes

And sometimes, when he's having a really bad day. When the memories of his childhood, the words of his father and the all-consuming loneliness strikes at his heart and consumes him completely, he needs to be grounded like that. Daryl's not so good with the emotional aspect of things; he's not good at asking for what he needs or sharing his insecurities. He's a doer. He's always been a hands on kind of guy. Problems were easier to solve if they were tangible, if he could punch the threat, run away from the issue, if there was a physical problem to solve he was fine. But emotions? Oh they're felt and not seen, and so much more difficult for him to understand.

So when he's alone in their apartment, and Shane is at work on the late shift and texting him apologies for having to stay late, he finds himself needing a physical comfort to the emotional problems. Without Shane there all he has is his clothing to carry his scent and it's easy to go to their room and finds the shirt that Shane wears to bed. When he slips the fabric over his body and can feel it clinging to him, it almost feels like a hug. The scent of Shane is thick and strong, deep and full of memories, emotions and feeling. He adores it and finds himself burying his nose into the collar to smell him more.

The pants are just that side of too big. Meaning they sit low on his hips, the legs drag over his feet and make him stumble, but it's worth it. Because when he curls up onto the couch, with the sleeves of the shirt dragging over his fingers and cradles his phone, it feels like Shane is there with him. It makes him feel a little more grounded, safe, loved. It means he can text Shane back that he's okay so the other man doesn't have to worry, and he can half watch a shit tv show to pass the time as he waits on the couch.

It's not a permanent fix, but it's a needed one for the moment. It lets him breathe and when he does all he can breathe is Shane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Saya.


	7. Innocence

It’s one of their first lessons. Shane has been fucking useless at skinning rabbits and Daryl intends to teach him before they end up tossing more good meat out because Shane was too proud to admit he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. So here he sits, side pressed against Shane’s as they use the daylight to see by, dead rabbit across his knee and knife in hand. He can feel each of Shane’s breaths over his shoulder, hitting the side of his neck as the man takes in each of his movements. Daryl’s so used to it all he has to intentionally slow his movements down to be seen by the other man, because to him this was just the norm. 

“When did you learn?” Shane asks him, reaching out to take the knife and copy Daryl’s movements, catching the blade beneath the skin and slicing away the muscle from it all. “To hunt, skin and all that? Boy scouts or somethin’?”

Honestly he doesn’t know what to say, and ends up just staring at the other man for a moment. Because to him this was life, this was how to survive even when he was a kid. But to Shane, to everybody else in the world, this was a hobby. Something fun to do on the weekends and to show off to others. Daryl’s never showed off to anyone, except maybe Merle once or twice when he was little and learning and wanted some sort of praise. But this was just life, was just the way things were for people like him and it kind of aches a little that Shane was so innocent to even ask that question of him. 

“Nah.” He finally answers, focussing back on the task at hand and letting his hands make light work of the dead animal. Shane leans closer into him, Daryl enjoys his heat and doesn’t pull away. But he doesn’t give him an answer to the question either. 


	8. Tears

It started with a cough. Middle of the night, when Daryl was pressed up against Shane as usual and awoke when his human pillow began coughing beneath him. Shane had brushed it off. It’s just a cough, surprised they hadn’t gotten sicker sooner since there wasn’t much medication these days and they were living in a prison. So he’d left it at that. Because it was just a cough. 

Until it wasn’t. 

And there were more coughs, not just from Shane. Others began coughing, began complaining of aches in the chest and snivelling like it was the flu or something. Daryl’s never got sick much, Merle always said Dixons were made of tougher stuff that city folk, but in reality he knew it was because they grew up without vaccinations so their bodies did it all for them. But now people are coughing, Hershel is talking about a sickness and before he knows it there is death and walkers and they’re having to separate the sick from the well. Him from Shane. 

“I’m gonna go get the medicine Hershel and Dr S says will make you better.” He tells him, eyes on his feet, unable to look through the glass partition that separates them. Shane is on the other side, bundled up in blankets, looking so fucking sick it’s ridiculous. He’s sweaty, hot with fever, coughing every so often and Daryl hates the fucking sound of it, as well as the sight. Shane ain’t meant to be like this. “Won’t be more than a day or so. Then you can stop this fuckin’ pity party and help out with the chores around here again.”

The anger makes it easier, because he’s never been good with this heart to heart shit. So he latches onto it, keeps watching his shoes and pretends not to hear more coughs and a choked laugh from the other side of the glass. “Yeah.” Shane wheezes, fucking wheezes and sounds one step away from dead. It makes Daryl shiver and he hates it. “Just need a few days of rest is all. Then I’ll be back on my feet.”

Daryl nods. Rubs at the the back of his head. Chews on his thumb and nods again. Can’t find the words to say goodbye because he and Shane don’t fucking do goodbyes. They’ve done it once before and shit happened, he’d said he weren’t going to do it again. They were a fucking team and that was it. End of story. 

“Hey.” Shane is croaking to him, and when Daryl looks up it fucking hurts. He looks so damned ill, sweaty and frail, curled in a blanket and huffing out clearly laboured breaths. “Hey.” A hand is pressed against the glass, palm flat, Shane is watching him and leaning close enough to press his forehead against the partition. It’s their thing. Their sign and Daryl finds himself mimicking it from the other side of the glass. It doesn’t feel the same without Shane against him. “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to be alright.” Shane tells him in a voice that echoes with illness. 

Daryl doesn’t say goodbye. He just tears himself away from the partition, turns on his heel and wipes at the tears on his cheeks as he makes his way out. 


	9. Introductions

Keep them safe. That was Shane’s job. Keep Lori and Carl safe. But somehow that had grown into keeping the Peletiers safe too. And then Glenn joined them, then Dale and the sisters with their RV, and Jim and Jaqui and T-dog and before long there is a group of them at the quarry and he’s in charge. Honestly he’s not sure how it happened, it feels a lot like he blinked and missed his own election, but it’s happened and now here he is, dealing with it. So he knows the main rule is to keep them safe and eyeing the beat up truck that winds it way closer to their camp, he hefts the shotgun higher as he takes a step forward. 

There is yelling from inside the truck, he can see two figures in there swatting at each other, bickering and yelling but then a door is kicked open, and out come one of the new comers. Redneck. Boots, leather vest, gun and from the looks of it a bad attitude. But he can see the way he holds the rifle, the way he knows the weapon and Shane knows they need more people who can shoot. 

“Howdy there Sheriff.” The newcomer smirks, stepping forwards like he owns the place and not looking at all contrite. “Looks to me like you’ve got a nice little set up here. Any room for two more?”

Shane isn’t sure. But before he can even open his mouth the second guy is climbing out of the truck. He’s smaller in size, looks younger, but just as much a redneck as the other man. He watches as the smaller one sidles up to the first man, look pissed as hell as he smacks at his shoulder and hisses. “Mer come on, we don’t need this shit.”

“Hey now don’t be so rude baby brother.” The elder brother grins, grabs his brother around the shoulders and shakes him in a way that looks more painful that affectionate. “I’m Merle Dixon, this is my baby brother Daryl. We’ve been on the road a while, was hoping you nice people might think of letting us join your group.”

“And why would we do that?” Shane has to ask. Because he’s been nice so far, but everybody they’ve helped so far has been like them, lost and looking for guidance. These hicks didn’t look like they needed guidance, just looked like they were looking for a fight. One that Shane doesn’t want to have. “Everybody here pitches in. We work together, you boys don’t look like you play nice.”

“How now Officer don’t be that way.” Merle tells him, still smiling but there is no friendliness in his eyes. “We can be nice. Can hunt too, when was the last time you had some fresh rabbit for dinner? Tell you now you’ll be needing people like us when the canned food runs dry.”  
  
He has a point, but Shane can’t stop thinking about what problem they could be. They look like a problem, the kind of guys he’d be stopping from fighting and locking up for the night for being drunk and disorderly. Merle is cocky but the younger one has caught his eye. Daryl is fidgeting, wriggling in his brother’s grip and looking dead uncertain about what they’ve asked for. If anything Daryl doesn’t look like he wants to be here at all. It’s intriguing, because who doesn’t want the safety of a group when the world had gone to hell?  
  
But he can see their point. There has been no one coming for them. No police, no army, no nothing. They were on their own, and the thing is, they needed people like the Dixons to help them learn how to get by. Glancing back over his shoulder he can see Carl hanging out with Sophia, looking so young and innocent, so unprotected by him and his one shotgun. Only he and Dale had ever shot a gun before, and as safe as their camp was, they still only had a limited number of food supplies.   
  
“You pull your weight and we’ll get on just fine.” He agrees, nodding for them to join in, to set up and get comfortable. The Dixons were joining them, but he doesn’t have to be too happy about it. And from the way the younger one is scowling at him, chasing after his elder brother and muttering about how they ‘didn’t have to do this’, maybe Daryl didn’t want to join them either.   
  
Still it didn’t hurt to have the extra protection for the people he did care about. He’ll just have to get used to the Dixons being around, cope with them even if they’d never be friends. 


	10. The Solution

"Stop hiding." Shane mutters, words barely spoken, but the intention made clear. They pick up everything these days and somehow there is a hair tie around his wrist as he scrapes Daryl's hair back into a hold between his fingers. It's messy, he's not an expert and Daryl is huffing with folded arms in his lap, but certainly not protesting enough to actually get Shane to stop. So he smiles, presses a kiss to the frown lines between Daryl's eyebrows and catches the last few wisps of hair to gather them together.

There are knots, snarls of Daryl's hair catching on his nails, he swears he's going to cut out the small matted part at the back one day, but for now this should be good enough. Slipping the band down over his fingers he loops it three times over, tight enough to grip but not so tight to pull and make Daryl wince. The ponytail is messy, it's kinda off to one side, already some of the shorter strands are coming loose, but it's achieved Shane's goal for the moment.

Cupping Daryl's face he rubs his thumb over his cheek, leaning back enough to admire him properly, getting to see the man he somehow came to claim as his own. "Hey, there's a face beneath all that hair." He jokes, and even if there is no laugh, he can see the tiniest of twitches at Daryl's lips, and how he's certainly not reaching up to yank the hairband free. "Hey come on, admit it, it'll make hunting easier. Won't get in your eyes as much. Make riding the bike smoother 'cause it won't be able to get tangled like a bitch again." He points out. Daryl huffs, the tiniest of snorts from his nose, arms are still folded across his chest, but that frown is slowly starting to become a smile.

"Fine." Daryl mutters and Shane leans forwards to press a kiss of success to his lips.

"Plus it makes you look pretty too."


	11. Sharyl in Space!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone on tumblr asked about a Sharyl in space AU. It got a bit out of hand.

  1. Daryl is an Earth human. 100% Earth human and he’s looked down upon for it. Now the human race has expanded to the other 8 planets (Pluto was reclaimed as a planet due to popular demand and because I say so) most carry specific genes and traits from their home planet. Earth humans are seen as behind the times, too common, too basic compared to their ‘evolved’ counter types on other planets. Daryl doesn’t care, he’d rather be pure human instead of one of those genetically enhanced assholes who thought themselves better than him. 
  2.   
Shane is a Mars human, one of those assholes who were stronger, healthier and tended to work more in the physical occupation than anything else. The extra iron in Mars’ atmosphere means the humans there are broader, stronger, their blood is redder and since their haemoglobin can transport oxygen faster, they tend to be better physically and when it comes to sports etc.
  3.   
They met accidentally. Daryl is an engineer, he works better with his hands and unlike those other nerds, he works out a problem by being hands on, listening to the noises the engines make, and getting dirty with the grease, parts and wires of the machines he’s fixing. Shane is the muscle that goes along on exploration missions. He’s used for defence, someone who is there to be the bulk for the nerds, the scientists and the excited explorers, and carry the weapons should things go to shit. The ship (The RV) that they’re using to go and explore new places, is refilling and having work done on Earth, Daryl working hard to make sure things are ready for travel and trying to ignore that frigging nerd Eugene who won’t stop going on about how exciting it’s going to be to find new life forms and species on the far side of Neptune. He’s minding his own business, just ignoring as the crew talk and talk, fixing each little niggle and tightening each screw into place. Of course then things go tits up. Someone who has a bone to pick with the explorer Rick Grimes, decides to show up, firing weapons, bringing their gang and it’s Shane’s job to make sure that everyone stays safe. So he bundles them all onto the ship, gets them all safe and makes them take off asap, getting them into the atmosphere and safe from harm. Unfortunately, during the chaos, no one gave Daryl the chance to get off the ship, whoops. 
  4.   
At first they think he’s a stowaway, but it soon becomes clear, by Daryl’s anger and want to be returned home, that he’s not. He’s a mistake, and godamn is he fucking mad. Shane of course wants to get up in his face, both of them yelling, Shane calling him an idiot for getting stuck on the ship, Daryl calling him a prick for bodily lifting Daryl into the ship and not letting him explain. It’s chaos, and the ship cannot return back to Earth until the mission is over, meaning that Daryl is stuck there, pressed against the window, staring at the vast amount of space around him and feeling pretty damned small when everyone else is confused as to why he’s not excited to get a free exploratory mission. “I’ve never left Earth before.”
  5.   
Daryl is really godamned lost. He gets the honorary position as the ship’s engineer, but he doesn’t exactly deal with life on the ship very well. It’s going to take them months to reach the far side of Neptune, so it’s not like a few minutes or anything. The main problem is that he’s cold all the time, and has to make do with someone else’s clothing to help warm him up since he’s not got anything of his own. It’s Shane that finds him one night, curled up on his bed and shivering in the cold, too stubborn to admit to being freezing. Shane is a hard ass, he’s a prick when he wants to be, but he feels responsible for Daryl being there, and sees it as his job to take care of him. So he’s bringing him an extra jumper and a blanket, trying to sheepishly apologise and let him know that he’s going to make sure nothing happens to him. Daryl figures hey, it’s just a few months of travelling, won’t be too hard. Then Shane mentions that they might need to do a space walk to check on the systems, and Daryl is their engineer now. Queue a lot of panic, borrowed space suits, and Daryl clinging on to Shane desperately as he’s forced to go out into space. 



 

It’s been a couple of days now. The RV is going well, sticking to the outskirts of the solar system is keeping them off the radar, keeping Rick’s enemies from finding them so easily. Daryl doesn’t know how in the hell he managed to get himself into this situation, but he’s here now and there wasn’t a way out. The crew seem nice enough, Rick throwing apologies his way, explaining that even if they are an official exploration mission, it’s always kept off the radar until it’s proclaimed a success. Unsuccessful missions just bring down morale, it makes people angry, causes conflict and apparently the Alexandria Exploration Company want to keep that to a minimum. They’re a smaller company, the kind that are doing things better, finding more elements that can be harnessed, and pissing off the bigger companies like The Saviours who can’t profit by being second best. So not only is he in space, he’s in space and on a secret mission, in a rusted, half busted ship, with a crew of misfits who are determined to find something good at the end of it. 

  
He’s not meant to be here. Daryl was not an explorer, he was an engineer, a mechanic, someone who’s idea of adventure was ordering a different takeaway to usual. But here he is, in space, on a ship, and shivering his way to an early grave, or so it feels. It’s freezing. He’s been to school, he knows the lessons and how humankind had conquered their known solar system and were adventuring ever further and shit, but his feet had stayed firmly on the ground. He wasn’t made for flying, wasn’t made for anything but dirt, natural air, junk food and Earth. So being out here is completely out of his comfort zone. Things here are metal, shiny, cold, fake and all manmade. It makes him feel out of place. 

  
Pressed against the reinforced window, he watches the galaxy travel buy. They’re going a few hundred miles an hour, but they’re stable, and so the stars in the distance just crawl by, mists and swirls of atmosphere moving by them through space. He feels small. So damned small and lost. It makes him shiver again, and Daryl can feel his teeth chattering as he tries to stop the nausea in his stomach from taking hold again. 

  
“Hey man, you okay?”

  
Shane. The fucking prick that got him into this mess in the first place. He sighs, doesn’t turn around and continues watching things trail by. He’s not doing so good, but he’s not going to say that, and definitely not going to let himself appear weak to this asshole. Instead he folds his arms a bit tighter, hunches in on himself and tries to warm himself up. It’s cold out here. Freezing with no atmosphere, and breathing in processed air all the time is only making it colder, and making him feel more and more lost. 

  
“I know you’re still pissed at me, but I can’t get you home man.” He knows, he’s already had that argument and dealt with the anger and upset caused by it. “Best I can do is make this as bearable as possible for you.” Too right. The guy fucking owed him for it. Owed him a damned lot more. Months. This trip is going to take months, almost a year, and he doesn’t know how to explain to Shane that his whole life is pretty much getting fucked more and more with each minute he’s out here. 

  
Still he doesn’t reply, doesn’t want to talk and waste his breath when he wasn’t wanted here. Just a mistake, just a tagalong, someone who’s been put into the corner and given a title as engineer to stop him from swearing all the time. He’s just here, just a small dot in the grand scheme of things and nothing more than a problem for everybody else. It makes him feel smaller, and he’s hugging himself to try and get back some warmth, some comfort, something. Anything. 

  
He flinches when something is draped over his shoulders, something warm, something thick and comfortable and even if he hates the other man, he’s curling into it for the warmth. It helps, and even if he still scowls to the other man, he’s tugging on the jacket, slipping his arms through the sleeves and zipping up the front, letting the too big piece of clothing hang from him. But it’s warm, and already he’s not shivering so much. Shane doesn’t look cocky thank God, but Daryl still isn’t thanking him, even if it’s clear from the patches and emblems over the jacket, that it’s one of Shane’s. 

  
“Your body will get used to the temperatures soon.” Shane tells him, stepping a little closer, into his space, and even if Daryl hates it, he can feel the other man’s warmth and it helps. “It takes a while, we’ve all been doing this for a long time, sometimes we forget what it was like the first time. You really are a space virgin aren’t you? Never left the planet before?”

  
“Never left Georgia before.” He mutters, tugging the collar of the jacket up to cover his neck, the sleeves hanging long enough to almost completely cover his fingers. He misses it. Misses home, misses the woods, misses trees and dirt and nature and something real and natural. This place is too clean. He hates it. “Never wanted to neither.”

  
Shane at least does look a little guilty for that, hanging his head with a small nod and actually listening to his frustration. “I’m sorry. I truly am.” Least he does sound sincere. “You’re a long way from home Daryl Dixon, it’s going to be difficult to get used to it, but I want to help as best I can.”

  
The stars and space go past the window, crawling by, so open and vast, with no end in sight. It’s beautiful and terrifying all at the same time. The warmth of the jacket helps make his world a bit smaller, a bit safer, a bit more comfortable for a small town boy like him. Easier to deal with. So he nods, looks Shane in the eye, and tries to get past the unease rolling around his stomach. Instead he latches on to the jacket, the warmth, curls his fingers into the soft lining of the sleeve and nods to the other man. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help it. Sharyl AUs just keeping appearing out of nowhere. Headcanons first and then a tid bit.


	12. Alexandrian mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I needed something fluffy because season finale.

Mornings are quieter here. There is the time to wake up slowly nowadays, blinking yourself conscious and stirring without having to be alert immediately. It’s strange. It’s unsettling, and even after these couple of months they’ve been here, Daryl is not used to it. The sheets feel too white, too clean, too pristine and nice for the kind of people they are. Ones that come back from slaughtering other humans in the dead of the night, wearing blood like badges of honour, and declaring victory like they’re champions. It’s not a life they want, but it’s the life they have, and he doesn’t think he will ever be used to it. The sheets are clean, but he doesn’t feel the same.

“What’re you thinking so hard about at this time in the morning?” Shane asks him, voice rough with sleep, muttered into his ear before a kiss is pressed against his neck. The arm around his waist tightens its grip, Shane drags him that few inches closer until their bodies are flush and he can feel his partner’s heartbeat this through him. It’s steadying. Something to rely on when he feels so out of sorts.

“You think it’s done?” He asks, tracing his fingers lightly over Shane’s arm, remembering the blood stains that he’d helped wash off when they’d gotten home. “You think it’s over just like that? With Negan?”

“We got them all didn’t we? Killed that son of a bitch and all his fuckin’ saviours.” Another kiss is pressed to his neck, his temple, before Shane is nudging for him to roll over and face him. He complies, still pressing close enough to feel that strong and steady heartbeat.

“They thought I was one of them.” He mumbles, the world still feeling too freshly awake to disturb it with a loud discussion. “The assholes in the burnt forest. The bike, the look, the bow, I looked like one of them.”

“But you’re not one of them.” Shane tells him, brow furrowed, looking concerned. “You’re not. We did what we had to do. Not because we wanted their stuff, or because we wanted to show them their place, we did it so they couldn’t do it to us first. Doesn’t make you one of them Daryl.”

Ducking his head he nods, tries to swallow back the unease in his stomach and see it the way Shane does. He knows how to survive, known it his whole life, things are just tougher now, more cut throat. Doesn’t mean he has to like it. A kiss is pressed to his forehead and he can’t help but smile at that, even if he still feels unsure about it all.

“Just don’t want anybody else to get hurt. Don’t want us to lose anything else. Anyone else.” Because each loss hurts, and he feels every single one every day.

“We won’t.” Shane soothes his worries, kisses him properly, slowly, softly, just the right kind of early morning kiss to expect. It helps. It makes it easier to breathe, easier to pretend that everything could be okay now, even if he can still smell blood from the bathroom drains. “I know it’s scary, not knowing what’s coming. But we can handle it. We have to. We’ve come too far to lose now.”

Daryl knows they’re not the winners here. They’re not victors, not champions or anything close to that. They’re just people who have been pushed to the edge, forced to do what they had to in order to survive. Like wolves in a trap. Fighting just to keep going. Every morning shouldn’t feel like another trial. Another fight waiting to happen. It shouldn’t leave him so on edge.

“Hey. What did I say about worrying?” Shane pokes his nose, makes him wrinkle it in annoyance before pressing a kiss to it. Then there are more kisses, more hands skating over his body and distracting him, holding him, helping him stop thinking about what might be and instead focussing on what is here. What is real. What is now. What he’s got.

Shane is his favourite distraction.


	13. "I got you."

The fever in the prison is wrecking them slowly. After everything they’ve fought for, all the walkers they’ve killed, all the people they’ve had to fight to get this, some kind of monster flu was going to take them out. It sickens him. Shane can’t stand the thought of losing more people like this, and it’s why he’s fighting so hard against it all. Maybe he can’t physically fight it this time, all his life of working out and staying fit won’t help, but he’s still doing his best to fight it. Even if it involves putting himself in the way of potential infection.   
  
Daryl’s been coughing for the whole day, since the early hours of the morning and each time it seems to be exhausting him more and more. Like he’s losing more of his strength with every choke and heave of his body. He’s pale, clammy, covered in a thin layer of sweat over his skin and trembling lightly. Shane’s never seen him look less like the Daryl Dixon he knows. Despite the quarantine warnings from Hershel, he stays with him, in Cell Block A, in a close, too warm cell that Daryl doesn’t have the strength to leave. He’s too ill to even think of moving, and Shane doesn’t want him to be alone if he can help it.   
  
So he stays, he sits and combs his fingers through Daryl’s sweat soaked hair to keep it off his face, and mops his brow with a cold compress to try and ease the fever. “You really are in the wars baby.” He mutters, the pair of them sitting on the floor of the cell because the concrete felt cooler on Daryl’s heated flesh over the cloying bedsheets. “Hope they get back with the medicine soon, this thing is really hitting us hard.”  
  
His partner doesn’t answer, instead Daryl hacks and coughs again, hunching over himself, drool falling from his mouth when he can’t close it, his body losing the strength to hold him upright after a while. Shane catches him before he can fall fully and collide with the floor, dragging his partner over his lap and helping him settle into being comfortable. “Hey, hey it’s okay, I got you. I got you.” He soothes him, stroking through Daryl’s hair and mopping up the drool on his chin. Daryl wheezes in his arms, his chest rising and falling harshly as he tries to catch his breath. Shane can feel how hard it is, how it’s taking all of Daryl’s strength not to just collapse and give in to it all. For a second Daryl slumps against him, limp and shivering, and he has to shake him and add some firmness to his voice to get a response. “Hey, hey don’t close your eyes! Don’t go to sleep on me yet Daryl, not yet. Not until we get some fluids and medicine down you.” He commands, heaving Daryl’s body against his, supporting the back of his neck with his hand when it seems to be too difficult for Daryl to do it himself.   
  
There is a small snort of a laugh, fingers curl into his shirt, and Daryl is peeking up at him through bleary eyes with a cocky grin. “Dr-drama queen. ‘m fine.” He wheezes, still weak as all hell, but daring to tease Shane right back despite his condition. It’s what makes him smile, makes him press a kiss to Daryl’s sweat soaked brow and hold him a little tighter. 


	14. "I know this hurts, but you've got to stay awake, okay?"

Daryl looks half dead, and Shane isn’t even exaggerating. Negan has gone, the saviours have gone, and here they are, lost, feeling alone, feeling weak and he will never forgive the asshole for that. For making him feel like he has no control. Rick is silent. Rick is lost, and it’s the same look he’d had back at the prison. Back after Lori. He doesn’t know when Rick will be back. But right now he has his own problems, his own worries, and they’re all about the amount of blood staining his hands. 

He’s lost too much blood. It’s clear that Daryl is in shock, trembling against his side as Shane supports him, sweating, silent, and looking paler by the second as they make their way towards Hill Top. It’s closer than home, and maybe Shane doesn’t want the people that depend on them for strength, to see them at their weakest. They move as a team, as a unit, but he can see that they’re all broken inside. Blood is smeared across all their bodies, spattered over them from Abraham’s death, flicked over their skin by that damned baseball bat. But he can’t think about that, he can’t listen to Rosita’s tears, or Maggie’s pain filled cries, because he has his own priorities to take care of right now. As awful as that might sound, he knows they have others to help them.  
  
Hill Top opens the gates for them, and he can see the understanding in their eyes. They’ve been there, they’ve had this happen to their people, and they know the pain. He doesn’t think it makes it any easier to see people they saw as strong like this, but at least they’re not asking stupid questions. Instead, they’re moving, they’re calling for the doctor, for people to help, and Jesus is at the head of the group moving their way.   
  
“Bring him inside, we’ll get Harlan to take a look at him.” Jesus beckons him closer, hands reaching out to help, to share the weight of Daryl. Shane can’t help but pull back, hitching Daryl a little closer, whatever jealousy he still has about the other man being near his partner coursing through him for a moment. There is a pause, Jesus looks a little hurt, but he doesn’t have the time to care, not when Daryl is still slowly bleeding out onto him. So he moves, holds Daryl a little tighter and begins heading towards the museum at the top of the hill.   
  
Daryl groans against him, his fingers twisting into Shane’s shirt as he shakes his head. “No.” His voice is small, weak, filled with pain and Shane hates hearing it this way. “H-her first.” Daryl tells them, and Shane can feel as he tries to twist around to find Maggie in the group following them.  
  
Before he can even begin trying to stop him, Jesus is there first, moving to intercept Daryl’s vision and get his waning focus off of Maggie. “Daryl, you’re bleeding, you’re in shock, you need treatment immediately before you get an infection, or worse.” Jesus tries to explain, but Daryl is shaking his head, looking paler by the second as he continues trying to break free of Shane’s grip to find Maggie.   
  
“Her first!” Daryl snarls, still weakly trying to get away, his loyalty and worry for his family overcoming even his own pain. “Her first! You help M-Maggie first!”  
  
Jesus may not understand Daryl, maybe he thinks it’s the blood loss talking, but Shane knows better, and he knows they’re not going to get any cooperation from his partner unless they agree to his wants. “Alright. Alright.” He helps Daryl back up from where he’s slipping down his side, Jesus adjusting his grip until they’re both taking most, if not all of Daryl’s weight between them. “The doctor will help Maggie, but we need to get you stitched up. Jesus will get supplies and you’ll have to deal with my piss poor nursing skills okay?” That gets a small huff of a laugh from Daryl, but they don’t have a lot of time for humour.   
  
The white sheets of the bed get stained with blood immediately, Jesus is back with supplies quickly, and before long Shane is peeling back layers of Daryl’s clothing to get to the bullet wound. The bullet has gone through, two wounds to stitch up, but at least it means Shane won’t have to dig his fingers inside to find it. Daryl whimpers a little as he begins cleaning it, squirming on the bed and still looking far too pale for his liking. Jesus helps, even if Shane still doesn’t particularly like the man, he appreciates having somebody else around when he can barely focus on what needs to be done with Daryl looking so ill.   
  
It hurts him to see someone so strong like this. His Daryl, his partner, someone he knows and loves, looking so damned weak and on the verge of possibly not recovering from this. He leaves Jesus to work on the wound, instead weaving his bloodstained fingers through Daryl’s hair and kneeling beside the bed to be close to him. “Hey, I know this hurts baby, but you have to stay awake for me, okay?” He speaks in barely a whisper, only tightening his grip on Daryl’s spare hand and cradling him closer when Jesus uses alcohol to clean the wound. It makes Daryl hiss and flinch, his body trying to jerk away from the pain, and leaving Shane to press their foreheads together to keep his focus on him. “Stay with me baby. Stay with me.”  
  
Because he cannot lose Daryl, not now, not ever.


	15. Teenage Sharyl AU - "You don't care! Nobody cares!"

The fact that Shane still sticks around with him, is insane. He’s so used to being alone, so used to being abandoned at a moment’s notice, left to fend for himself. Having Shane still want to follow him through his shit hole of a life is insane. Even when he turns up to school with bruises on his face, with split lips and torn clothes, Shane still wants to be there. It’s maddening. He thinks it’s a game, just one huge joke and he’s the punchline. But no. Shane is still there through it all.   
  
Hands stroke over his bruised sides gently, cradling his body like it’s worth something, like he’s worth everything to Shane Walsh. It’s confusing, it’s a world he’s never been a part of, never had a place in, but Shane wants him to be there, and to be there with him. Kisses are pressed over his lips, he’s allowed to stay at Shane’s house most nights, he’s told he’s desired, he’s given gifts, and brought into someone else’s life like it’s no big deal. As if he deserves it. It’s maddening.   
  
He’s always waiting for the catch. Always looking back and waiting for the backstabbing to happen. When will he be thrown out, laughed at, hurt and made to feel bare and destroyed for letting himself trust and feel so deeply? It’s a waiting game, and when he’s spent his whole life with family barely liking him, finding honesty in Shane’s words of affection is almost impossible. Daryl spends time waiting, making the most of what he can get, but trying not to fall so far into it. He knows it’s only a matter of time, and he doesn’t want to let himself get hurt anymore than he has to.   
  
So he tries to just think of it as a mutual using. Pretend he doesn’t care. He’s just using Shane for sex and release, just like the other boy is using him. It’s all a big game, but the joke will be on Shane when Daryl doesn’t care when he’s cast aside. It’ll be better that way, and he will be able to move on with his life and laugh it all off as just a phase through his teenage years.   
  
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”  
  
Until Shane goes and ruins it all with words like that. And he’s lost all of a sudden, nothing but a kid trying to wade through emotions he’d been pretending not to have. Because it feels too real, too frightening and he’s completely unsure as to how to deal with shit like that. So he gets angry, because if there is one thing he’s learned over the years, it’s that getting angry is the correct emotional response to every situation.   
  
“Fuck you.” Is how it begins, then his hands are closing into fists and he’s ready for the fight. “Fuck you Shane! I don’t have time for this bullshit anymore! You don’t care! Nobody cares! Nobody has ever cared about me! So don’t start that bullshit, with me!” And he’s snarling, he’s spitting, and his heart is beating so fast he can hear it in his ears. It hurts, something in his chest is squeezing so tightly he think he might die but he knows he doesn’t want this. “Just leave!” He screams, and he thinks that is the end of the whole Shane chapter.   
  
Until he’s held, he’s kissed, he’s told in so much more than words that he’s worth something to someone. That someone does care. Someone does want him. And maybe this whole thing hasn’t just been one huge joke waiting to be thrown in his face. Maybe Shane does give a damn about him. Even if he doesn’t know if he can ever believe it.


	16. "You have broken ribs."

Shane knows that Daryl has never been one to stay down, never one to stay still or rest. If there was work to be done, then Daryl would always be at the head of the group and ready to dig in. But right now, there is no way that’s happening, and it’s both worrying and amusing at the same time.   
  
“You have broken ribs.” Shane reminds him again, looking up from where he’s cleaning his gun with a smile. Their room is bright, filled with sunlight, the picture perfect image of a picture perfect life. The walls around Alexandria help keep up the facade, even if the pair of them know it’s just a veil to hide the outside world. Still, it means they’ve got the time to relax and take the time they need for Daryl to rest and heal. “Take it easy.” He coaxes.   
  
Daryl snorts on a laugh, but that seems to do him more harm than good, and it’s followed by a small moan and “ow” that makes Shane smile again. Moving over to the bed, he perches on the side of it, making sure not to shift the mattress enough to cause Daryl any more discomfort. He’s never had broken ribs, but he can see from the wince and tiny flicker of pain in Daryl’s eyes that it’s got to be bad, especially if Daryl’s showing it. They’ve gotten him wrapped up, Carol sadly being the one who best knew how to treat broken ribs. Even if he hadn’t said anything, shane has a feeling Daryl’s been through this particular injury before.   
  
“Not got a lot of time to take it easy nowadays.” Daryl mumbles, clearly finding it painful to even think of speaking any louder. Of course Shane knew it was coming, Daryl isn’t one to take rest when it was offered to him, but Shane isn’t going to take no for an answer this time. Besides, a bed bound Daryl is one of his favourite things, even if some of his ideas to pass the time will have to wait a while.   
  
“Well you’re going to be a good patient and rest up.” Shane tells him, trying to sound authoritative when he can’t help but smile as he looks over the other man. “Make the most of having me here to wait on you hand and foot while you’re pretty much useless. If you haven’t got any decent ideas of what to use this opportunity for, I have a few I could share with you?” He teases, leaning down to press a teasing kiss at the corner of Daryl’s lips.   
  
Again he gets a small chuckle, one that’s enough to get Daryl wincing and letting out a small noise of pain. “You’re nothing but a filthy pervert Shane Walsh.” Daryl points out, squirming a little in place and pausing when he can’t quite move the way he wants. Shane moves to help him prop himself up, adding more pillows behind him, and helping to take his weight and give some relief to Daryl’s aching ribs. “You just want to play nurse so you can help undress me and give me bed baths.”  
  
Giving a little laugh, Shane can’t stop the smile from creeping onto his lips at the thought. Sure maybe Daryl was going to be a grumpy asshole for the next few days or weeks, but there could be some definite perks to this situation. “You know, I never even thought of that. Now who’s the pervert?”


	17. "I love you so much, I forgot what hating myself was like."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Working Out Differences AU

All his life he’s not thought much of himself. Hell, nobody else had ever thought much of him either. Unwanted kid. Hated son. Ignored son. A baby brother that’s too sweet to be worth any of Merle’s acceptance. Hell the moment he’d been branded with the name Dixon, he’d been cursed to a life of little or no respect. Most people only feared the Dixons, kept a wide berth, only ever knew they were bad trouble and not to get on the wrong side of them. He’s not sure if it was Merle’s reputation or his fathers that made people think that, but either way by the time he’d come around, the Dixon name had been dragged through the mud enough to tar him as a problem from birth.   
  
So he’s used to being thought of as nothing more than a piece of shit. He’s used to being that scumbag redneck that’s kept to the sidelines. The person people deal with because they have to, because the world has gone to hell and he knows how to shoot a weapon. He’s just a tool to be used, just someone to have along because he’s useful. Daryl gets that. He understands the role he’s meant to play in the world because it’s one he’s played his whole life. Just someone there to fill the space until something better comes along. A placeholder. Daryl Dixon, the stand in. It’s what he’s always been.   
  
Before Shane.   
  
Since they got separated from the group, they’d grown together. He’d become someone he never thought he could be, and he knows that’s because of Shane. Now, almost two years since it all started, they’re still together. In their town, in their house, in their bed. Together. It’s something he’d never even anticipated for himself, just a pipe dream that other people had for their future. Not him. And yet now, after most of the human race were dead, here he was, somewhere he’d never thought he’d be.   
  
It’s the thought of how far he’s come that’s got him awake this early, still wrapped up in the clean white bedsheets, and Shane, as he looks over the other man. The ex cop is not somebody he’d ever have thought would go for someone like him. At first they’d been pretty much assholes to each other, but somehow it had changed and become this. He’d become the person Shane had chosen to be with, and not just for some quick release, or because he was the only option available. But because he was wanted.   
  
Leaning closer, he nudges into Shane’s embrace, the other man’s limbs automatically moving to curl around him tighter, bringing him in to be able to rest on Shane’s chest as the other man sighs himself awake. Daryl thinks maybe this is the best time of day, when everything is just quiet, just the two of them, and they’re allowed to just ‘be’ for a while. He can just lay his head over Shane’s heart and listen to the steady thump for while, a reassurance and reminder of just how alive, and real this all is for him. A hand comes up to pet through his hair, Shane’s chest rising and falling with a lazy yawn as he hovers on the cusp of waking up.   
  
Daryl knows he’s not a sentimental kind of guy. He’s not the type to dwell on words when actions spoke so much better these days, but sometimes, in moments like this, he feel the need to at least try and convey what the hell gets caught in his chest every time he looks at the other man. “You know I’m not good at this sort of shit.” Even if Shane isn’t technically awake yet, he feels the need to apologise before he begins. “But since we’re playing the whole normal family, in a normal house, in a normal town, might as well go the whole way with it. Just think you should know. Not going to say any of that crappy movie bullshit. This isn’t going to be one of those ‘I’ll never let go Jack’ moments, don’t think I could come up with anything like that. But you should probably know that I love you. Maybe I don’t have the best idea of what love is like and stuff, not exactly an expert on the subject. Never really had it, or felt it before. But I know I love you. I love you so much I forgot what hating myself was like.”   
  
Because he figures that’s what it’s all about. All his life he’s been nothing, been second best, and been so used to being ignored, or seen as a problem when he was seen at all. But when he’s with Shane, it’s different. He feels seen. When he’s with Shane, it doesn’t matter what he thinks about himself, because Shane thinks of him as something, and that’s what matters. And if Shane sees him, and feels even a fraction of the same way that he feels about the other man, well then he figures they’re doing pretty good. Their something, is definitely something. Something worth being sappy about.   
  
“Did you just quote Titanic?” Shane’s sleepy voice asks him, and Daryl can only roll his eyes and punch the other man’s side in annoyance, before he’s enveloped in an embrace and kissed through their shared laughter.


End file.
